Dead End
by SweetxasXSin
Summary: Faith Evens is the last connection to a tangled web that started to wind years ago; with the cops, the mob and a long lost love all looking for her, she finds herself backed into a corner she can't find her way out of. Joker/OC Sexual Content & Language
1. Common Numbers

**A/U:** Hi, guys! This isn't my first fan fiction, but it is on this site in particular. It's also my first batman story, so some critism and/or comments would be greatly appreciated.

* * *

**Dead End**

Chapter One: Common Numbers

Her shoes make small click's against the marble floors of the bank, echoing against the walls pleasantly. The large white pillars that stand tall against the front doors glow brilliantly against the sunlight that pools in from the windows circling the building. It gives that room an nearly surreal look, and basks it in magnificent colour. Normally, she would take the time to stare in awe at the beauty of such a moment, but today, she doesn't have the time.

It was around midday-when there was just the right amount of people bustling around-and the sounds of other people going about their business made Faith _a lot_ more comfortable. Her eyes are covered in green contacts that burn uncomfortably, and her sweaty scalp itches under the weight of her curly brown wig. With a sigh, she lets her finger brush over her right eye, where God knows how much make-up was hiding the scar tissue beneath it. From the corner of her eye, she spots a male teller in the fair corner of a customer service desk. She grins as though he has the word TARGET tattooed across his forehead in big bulky print; he might as well have. She takes in his cocky appearance-the slicked back blonde hair and the way his tie hangs loosely-_Show time_, she muses briefly to herself, letting a fake smile part her lips.

"Hi," She says sweetly as she leans her weight onto the counter, "I'd like to see my safety deposit box, please."

"Sure thing," He says with a returning smile that doesn't meet his eyes, "Mrs…?"

"Lahey." She grins charmingly, rummaging through her purse, "Nicole Lahey."

"Alright," He hums out, and his fingers glide over the computer in a way that almost makes her homesick, "Can I see some identification?"

"Sure thing," She winks-and holds back a roll of her eyes-pulling out her wallet to flash him a picture of a pretty, young brunette with a beaming expression.

"Alright, Mrs. Lahey." He says, picking up the phone beside him, "Just let me call security and he'll take you down."

"Thank you," She whispers softly, twiddling her thumbs in anticipation. A few agonizing moments later, a lanky-looking fellow with grey hair saunters out from behind a door to her right, whistling softly under his breath.

"Follow me," He tells her, and she almost has to jog to keep in stride with him. _For an old guy_, she grins to herself, _he doesn't waste any time_. He leads her down a narrow corridor and makes a sharp left, before using the keys jingling at his waist to unlock a vault.

The, she's shown over the metal boxes that sit against the wall, stopping in front of one labelled '1522.' He pulls a key from his pocket, grumbling as he does so and slides it in. It turns with a small click, and then he meanders back out the door without so much as a word.

"Thanks," She says, brushing back her hair out of habit as he grunts in response, closing the door behind him. She listens to his footsteps fade for a moment or two before surveying the room around her.

"Okay Faith, I'd say we've got ten, maybe fifteen minutes," A voice chimes into her ear via earpiece, and she smiles briefly, taking a minute to itch at her hair line. Miles away, her brother and partner taps away at a computer of his own, watching her every move from the buildings surveillance.

"Don't say anything. You see the camera?" She turns to fix it with a look, and listens to him chuckle, "Good. Now, go over to the box and stand with your back turned to it for a few seconds. I'm already in the network, I just need to hook some shit up on my end."

Faith plays idly with her own key as she waits, before sliding it into the keyhole, turning and listening as it opens all the way. "Alright, I got it." He says quickly, "Now, I need you to take some slow steps around the room-" He pauses as she responds immediately, playing with her fake hair as she goes, "-I'm taping it so we can play it on loop for a little bit."

He pauses to let her make some distance and then tells to do it over again, "Okay, Faith. I just synced my cam with theirs. Go for it." And she does, stepping quickly back to the lockers lining the wall and jerking open her safety deposit box. Dentist-like tools stare back up at her, and she grins, running her bare fingers against the metallic pieces.

She takes out the smallest one, a tiny tool lined with bristles on the end, as her eyes scan the shelves. "It's the one to your right, 1236." Absentmindedly, she nods, adjusting her wig with her left hand as her right jiggles the key within the slot. She pushes it deeper, listening carefully as she hears the proper pins slide into place.

Finally, a grateful click fills her ears and she wastes no time pulling it open. She files through some of the paper stacks, and then spies a small black bag in the far corner. She picks it up, letting a smirk take her face as she peers in at the contents.

"I've got it, Jay." She tells him cockily, waving the bag to the camera dauntingly, "What's my time?"

"Three minutes and twenty-eight seconds." He grumbles as her grin widens.

"You owe me a grand," She says pointedly, shoving the bag into her coat pocket, and fixing the boxes back to the way she found them. She expects him to bitch, at least a little-after all, that's the fun part!-but he doesn't.

"Whatever," He sighs and she hears some shuffling beyond the earpiece, "Just go stand next to the door so I can end the loop."

She skips over with a smile, and adjusts herself as he sees fit until he tells her to hold still. "Alright Faith, I'm done here. Pick up some grub on your way home, would ya'?" _Grouchy ass_, she thinks, _loveable little grouch, though. _The line in her ear goes dead after he mumbles something about scraping up some cash, and Faith twists her hair around her finger, smiling.

Suddenly everything is quiet, and it reminds her of the calm before a storm. As if on cue, gunshots sound from somewhere behind the door as a women shrieks in the background. "Get down on the ground!" A rough voice grinds out, and another shot is sounded, on its own this time, "Show me your hands!" Panicked screams erupt as another clip is unloaded, followed by some shuffling and then more unnerving quiet.

_This must be what chaos sounds like, _she thinks, amused, _Fuck, I really don't need this today._

With a frown, she takes a step back from the door, and then, remembering the camera, attempts to look frightened. Footsteps are getting closer and closer, until she can hear a drill buzzing on the opposing side. Finally, the vault slides open noisily, and she makes a show of shrieking as she drops to the ground.

_Me and my luck, _She groans inwardly; Before her stands two men in clown masks, one crouched near a backpack of equipment with-surprise, surprise!-a drill in hand, and the other hunched behind him, shotgun dangling from his fingers.

"Shit, someone's in here," The one on the ground growls, but the other says nothing. He raises his left hand unflinchingly to the back of the mans head, and without a moments hesitation pulls back on the trigger. The Shotty at point blank sends blood and brain onto anything nearby, including Faith. It flows openly onto the floor as he steps over the body, adjusting his mask with his free hand. The pool of blood makes it to the edge of her shoe, and Faith cant decide whether to fake hysteria or do nothing at all. She settles for whipping away some of the blood with the back of her hand.

"Get on the ground, bitch," He hisses, jerking the gun back. Faith bares her teeth, her anger finally kicking in, _I am so sick of this. _Within that moment she silently debates with herself, until finally it ends with; _Who cares? I'm in disguise, anyways._

She grabs his wrist and twists hard as the gun comes down, using the added force to drag him off balance; she uses his weight against him, tossing him onto the ground like a rag doll and pinning his arm against his back rather painfully.

His finger jerks on the trigger-_damn idiot!-_the bullet imbedding itself into the far wall. In anger, she twists harder and grins at his pained yelp, and the cringe-worthy crack that comes as his hand is bent way past the norm. The gun slips away from his fingers as his wrists hangs limply, twisted and broken. She catches it with her free hand and clambers over top him, slamming the base of the grip onto the back of his head victoriously.

His body slumps forward immediately, and she stands, pausing when someone from the doorway clears their throat.

Another clown-masked man is leaning against the frame, wagging his gun at her. His mask is different then the others; with sullen blue eyes and a large, menacing red grin. A purple suit hangs loosely off his physique, proportioned in a manner that screams authority. _Of course, _Faith thinks bitterly, _the one day I take a trip to the bank, the Joker himself decides to rob it. Fuck, fuck, fuck._

"Ah, ah, ah," The man tisk's, nearly skipping forward and gripping her arm roughly, "_I _wassupposed to, ah, of_f_ him. Now who's going to help me load the bags?" _Maybe he wont recognize me?, _she pleads with God softly in her mind, _Please, please let him not recognize me_.

She can hear his lips smack from beneath the rubber mask as he tugs her closer, his fingers moving up to grab her face roughly. His thumb brushes just below her eye and she curses as she feels the makeup curl beneath his touch. He recoils slightly, bouncing almost excitedly, "_Faithy_? Is that _you_ under there?" She stiffens immediately and bites down on her lip, hard.

He scrubs at her cheek eagerly, peeling away at the makeup covering her cheek until he unveils the two triangular scars that hover just below her right eye. "Oh-ho, Faith_y," _He mocks, drawling out the 'y' with a click of his tongue, "It _is_ you!"

_I knew it was too late to become a believer_, she groans to herself, a frown playing at her lips.

He squeals and rips the brown wig away from her head in one yank, tugging roughly at the jaw-length black hair that replaces it. He ruffles her bangs and laughs harder when she scowls and brushes them out of her face.

"I should have known when I, ah-" He pauses to giggle as he takes hold of her arm again, "-Ha-ha, caught you _ruffin_' up my best like that." He nods over-dramatically at her halfway through, growling out each word as he points to the slumped over man.

"Your best are shit," She spits out, trying to pull her body away from his bruising, vice-like grip, "My grandmother could have taken him out."

He seems to mull this over for a moment, then shrugs, "Hard to find good help these days, y'know?"

She nods absentmindedly as he giggles again and pokes her, "I'm going to leave you here, Fa-_i_-thy-d**ea**r_est_," he says lowly, shaking his head like a wet dog, "But, ah, I need a favour. So you-" He jabs the gun into her chest, "-meet me," and then jerks it to himself, "-On Ethel street at, _oh_, um, let's say, 8, tomorrow."

"Sharp," He adds, clicking his teeth together.

"Finish whatever job your doing now," He motions to the room behind him with the gun like he's flicking away a peasant, "and, uh, fit me in on your sched_u_le."

He nods her own face for her with his gloved hands and then pats her on the head, "Good."

He makes it over to the safety deposit boxes with one stride, and pulls a crowbar out of his coat. _What the hell does he keep in there? _She thinks as she wrinkles her nose. "1236, 1236," He scratches the inside of his neck from beneath the mask as he scans the numbers, tapping the gun against his chin in mock of a thoughtful expression. "It's the one to your left," She calls, watching as he fixes her with a look. His eyes trail down to her lumped pocket, and he mouths an 'O' with a firm nod. He finds the box with a happy sound and wrenches it open, sifting through the paperwork Faith had bypassed. He yanks out a yellow page and lets the rest spill to the ground, with an "Oops," and a bounce in his step.

"-Oh," He says cheerfully as he makes his way to the door, but his voice transcends to a growl within moments, "And lose the contacts Faithy."

He pauses to slide his fingers through her hair and along her jaw, tilting his head as she shivers. "I like your, _uh_, baby blues better." He purrs, and slaps the side of her cheek twice gently before he disappears through the vault doors.

She stares after him, waiting as his feet click against the floors, whistling and humming as he goes. "Where the hell are you Faith?" Her ear piece hums back to life. Like a child, Jay whines from the other side of the line, "I'm hungry!"

"Hum, de dee dum~" And his voice disappears down the hallway.

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A/U: So what did you think of the first chapter? Is Faith real enough, is the Joker in character? Any comments at all are helpful ones. I'm like a crack whore.. execpt my crack is reviews!.. and sugar canes, that shit makes me go ko-koo for cocoa puffs! Erm, yeah, so I hope you enjoyed.


	2. Familiar Faces

**A/U: **Thank you so much for all the feedback! It's good to know that some of you are enjoying reading this as much as I'm enjoying writing it. I'm super excited to get to the next set of events; but I cant promise much updating. I have History and Science exams coming up-both academic-I might get another out on the weekend, but I cant promise much for next week.

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**Dead End**

Chapter Two: Familiar Faces

_"Jack!" She squeals, wriggling her body in attempts to get away from the onslaught of tickles. She squirms and gasps for breath, fists pounding against his chest as she lays caged below his body._

_He grins-one of his best qualities-as his fingers brush against her stomach, peeling her shirt up until it rests above her navel. She reels back to tell him off, but its replaced with yet another laugh as his lips connect with her skin, blowing a raspberry onto her ticklish flesh._

_She arches as she laughs-tears prickling at the corners of her eyes-as her hands tug into mess of blond atop his head, desperately trying to pull his him away from her exposed tummy. Finally, he relents, smirking smugly up at her and laughing when she blushes a ripe crimson._

_Jack flashes a gorgeously contagious grin at her, and she cant help but do the same as his lips connect with her skin again, this time on her cheek._

_"Your such an ass!" She laughs playfully, swatting his hands away, "How would you like it if __**my**__ hands were all over __**you**__!"_

_He turns his head to stare up at her suggestively and she deadpans, realizing she desperately needs to work on her choice of words._

"Faith?" Jay's voice breaks into her thoughts, "What happened?" She nibbles on her lower lip and lets her brows tilt down into a glare.

"Go through the footage if you want to know so bad," She grumbles, bending to retrieve her wig and fold it sloppily over her head, "I don't want to talk about it."

"Bitch," He mumbles against her ear, clicking away at his keyboard endlessly as she peeks around the corner. Satisfied with the lack of police, she rounds it, the sound of her feet connecting with the floor resonating all around her.

Finally, corridors lead into the main room, where a mother and her child are huddled together on the floor, shivering. She looks up at Faith, a terrified gleam in her eye and Faith mimics the look, "What happened out here?" The Joker had left a hefty trail of chaos and mayhem in his wake. The building was in shambles; many of the windows had been shot out-leaving glass littered around the room-and the wall to her far right was caved in.

The woman simply shakes her head as a lone tear rolls down the side of her face, drawing Faith's attention to a discoloured patch that swells around her eye. The look of it makes Faith purse her lips as a familiar feeling runs through her, but she pushes memories aside as she hears sirens in the distance. With a frown, she pulls a twenty out of her pocket hastily and curls the mothers hands around it. "Go to the pharmacy and buy a cold compress. Leave it in your fridge for an hour, wrap it in a cloth, and leave it on your eye for about twenty minutes. Did you get all of that?" Faith is almost out of breath, but smiles as she see the mother nod slowly, staring down at the bill in surprise.

In record time, she's out the front doors and manages to cross the street as the first few patrol cars slide to a halt before the building. She adjusts her wig nervously, manoeuvring it so it covers over her scarred eye and pulls up the collar of her jacket, dipping inside it like a turtle. Hands in her pockets, she makes a beeline for the bus stop and checks the times listed on the back of the pole that sits in front of the shelter. Her watch confirms that she has about five minutes to wait, so she stands next to it, nervously fidgeting.

A black car speeds around a fork in the road soon after, tires screeching as it turns into the bank she had just escaped from. Interested, she peeks up as a man in a grey trench coat slides out of the car, a deep frown on his face. Brownish hair-lined with some greys around his brow-is pushed back with a shaky hand as the other adjusts his glasses, and runs through the matching brown moustache that hangs beneath his nose.

"Commissioner!" Someone calls to his right, waving a hand in the air as he jogs over. She hears the hiss of air brakes, and turns to the horizon, biting down on her lip as her bus comes into view; as it slows to a stop in front of her, she dares one look back to the commissioner, and catches his eye from across the road.

He freezes her in place with the intensity of the gaze for just a moment as the bus moves into her line of vision. "Commissioner, are you listening?" The man says again, waving his hand in front of his bosses face. "Hold on," Gordon says hastily, turning back towards the bus stop; but the young woman is gone. The officer beside him follows his gaze, but Gordon waves off his worried expression with a smile, "Never mind, go on."

* * *

The house is dimly lit when she gets home, the only light coming from a combination of TV and computer screens. "Hello?" She calls into the darkness, as she peels the wig away from her head and throws her coat over the couch, "Jay?"

She finds him rocking his head along to some tunes in his chair, hands holding over-sized headphones to his ears. "Where'd you learn how to dance, Bo-bo?" With a scowl, she rips them off his head and plops down some Chinese food in front of him to stop the stream of cusses spewing from his mouth. He grins at her happily, letting the headphones hang around his neck, "Do you even know how much I love you?"

Faith makes a gagging sound and helps him unwrap the Chinese before retreating to the living room as he trails behind with a plate of rice and chicken balls.

"Geeze Vampire," She mocks with a roll of her eyes as she pulls back the curtains and he hisses, "Sorry to disrupt your crypt, but you could use a little light."

"Hey," He retorts, mouth full of rice as he points his fork to his bronze-coloured skin, "I get plenty of sun, y'hear? Maybe you're the one who needs some exposure, eh?"

He takes a seat on a rolling chair in the far end of the room-next to the billionth computer that was in the house, seriously!-and leans back, yawning.

"Jerk," She says, sticking out her tongue and hiding her ivory skin. "Pasty," He hisses in reply and she tosses a pillow at his head from halfway across the room. She laughs as it bounces off his head with a thump, and he grins and tosses it back, only Faith catches it. He spoons another scoop of rice, using his feet to propel his chair in a circle, "So, I watched the tapes.."

"And?" She says, making her way into the kitchen. "_And _your not really thinking about meeting up with him are you, Faith?"

She comes back out with a glass of orange juice and shrugs, "Do I have a choice? If I don't find him, he'll find me."

Jay frowns, his fingers sliding through his dark hair as he wheels back around to face the computer, "I'm callin' Maroni; I think he'll want to know your done."

Faith makes a sound from the couch, filtering through some crappy channels with the remote before settling on the news. A pretty young woman stands in front of a building in ruins. The front doors are nearly off its hinges and bullet holes litter the glass that wraps around the building. Faith reaches around for the remote and ups the volume, pulling her glass to her lips.

"Gotham's own Imperial bank was robbed early this morning, by what is said to be men in clown masks. Commissioner Gordon arrived on scene about an hour ago, and the police have searched the building thoroughly. Unfortunately, they arrived moments to late. Inside, two of the robbers were found dead, and one unconscious."

Faith snorts, stretching out her legs on the coffee table in front of her. "When asked for his comment, the commissioner had this to say;"

The camera footage switches to Gordon, standing atop a podium, his face surrounded by flashes and microphones. His brow is creased in worry, a deep frown on his face as he solemnly stares into the camera, looking worn out.

"Nothing is for sure at this time. Know that we are doing everything in our power to find the whereabouts of the Joker. Currently, my men and I are reviewing surveillance footage, and will notify the public of any advances in the matter. Thank you."

The media around him roars in response, and with an aggravated sigh, Faith stretches, watching her brother from the corner of her eyes.

His brown eyes glow under the computer light, as he scratches his big toe with the opposite foot, phone pressed between his shoulder and his ear. "It's too damn hot in here," He complains, nimble fingers undoing the first few buttons on his crisp, white dress shirt. It contrasts with his skin, and stands out against the jeans that hang loosely around his hips. The door bell rings quickly five times, like an impatient child that cant wait for someone to get to the door, and Jay curses loudly, "Shit, Faith, cant you get that?"

"Yes, _mother_." With a roll of her eyes, she pads over to the door, glancing through the eyehole wearily. The hallway, distorted by the rounded glass, is empty, so Faith peaks her head out the door cautiously. She looks both ways with a puzzled expression, before finally glancing down and seeing a brightly coloured jack-in-the-box. Next to it, a tiny shred of white paper sits, with simply the letter 'J' on it.

With a frown, she takes another quick glance around, before picking it up and shutting the door with her foot.

"Shit, Faith. Your not going to open that, are you?" Jay says, eying it with a disapproving look, "What if it blows up?"

Faith rolls her eyes and grips the handle, spinning it as the song bursts through the box eerily. Finally, it comes to the end of its melody, but nothing happens. Frustrated, she cranks it hastily once again, and the lid pops off, nearly scaring her half to death.

Jay falls off his chair laughing beside her, but she doesn't bother with him; out from the box pops a single red rose, a Joker card tied to its stem, "Don't be late," written across it in sloppy scrawl.

* * *

Jim Gordon sits in his office, brows furrowed in frustration as he traces the oak designs of his desk with his eyes. With a heavy sigh, he cups his hands over his face, pinching at his nose before letting them fall back onto his desk. The stress was overwhelming; no one seemed to have any leads to the Joker at all. It was almost like the man didn't exist!

"Gordon, sir!" A voice calls out, and his door busts open with out some much as waiting for an answering call, "We found something!"

Two officers wheel in a small TV, and a third-his newest, Gordon realizes-pushes in a cassette with a line of tape on the front. "Footage from the Vault, sir." He confirms with a tight frown and a nod.

On screen, they watch as a young woman with a familiar face disarms one man in clown mask. Gordon's mind moves a mile a minute; what kind of style was this? He would have to look it up. They listen to her conversation with who they can only presume is the Joker, watching silently as his fingers trace over her face almost affectionately, and then the screen goes blank. They stare at it in a deathly silence for a moment.

"We have no other records of her ever being present, sir." An officer beside the TV says, "She was no where to be found when he arrived." But Jim doesn't hear him. He stands tall, rushing to the screen and with shaky fingers presses the rewind button.

"I'm going to leave you here, Faithy-dearest," The Jokers maniacal laugh erupts from the screen as Gordon's fingers play over the VCR like a magical combination.

_Zoom. Rewind. Play. _"I'm going to leave you here, Fai-" _Pause._

Faith's face is clear on screen, the triangles below her eyes glowing almost black over the low-quality TV. Her short hair fans out and frames her face-the camera had caught her turning-her lips are parted; its her eyes that trigger Gordon's memory, those strong eyes.

"What bus leaves from Gotham Imperial?" He asks, his voice urgent and demanding. "U-upper James to Mohawk, sir. I take it home from work every night." The newest of the officers in the room says and Gordon nods firmly.

"I need you to get me the address of every 'Faith' that lives between Mohawk and Upper James, Garcia." He says, and the officer strides out of the room, a pleased look on his face.

"Lucas," He says, pointing to the one closest to the door, "Get a clear image of her face. I want it on every news station around the clock."

"Yes, sir." Lucas replies with a nod, and he rushes from the room and down the hall.

"Ramirez," He says finally, stopping to look down at the newest addition to his team-an old friends younger brother-"I need you to gather a team of cops for me. Tomorrow at seven o'clock, we go down to Ethel, and set up a perimeter."

Gordon grabs his coat off the desk and stalks out of the room, intent on calling his wife and apologizing for missing dinner once again.

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**A/U: **Will the cops catch Faith? Will Jay be beat over the head with a jack-in-the-box? Why am I asking _you_ all these questions? So much to be revealed, next time! :D


	3. Riddles

_**A/U: **__I just did my Science exam two days ago. I was really scared, but it was actually very easy. My History exam is tomorrow__ but I'm not that worried about it, so I figured I might as well try and get out another chapter. I'd really like to hear what you think about the story so far; reviews fuel me to write more, and I'm anxious to get to the romance portions; and I guess this sort of counts as that. This chapter gets a little __**mature**__, flash-back wise, so you can skip over that if you want, but it definitely gives you a bit more insight into a previous relationship; You can definitely expect some real smut somewhere in chapters four through six._

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**Dead End**

Chapter Three: Riddles

_"So gorgeous," Jack mumbles, muffled against her neck, "How did I ever end up so lucky?"_

_The black-haired beauty bites her lip hard to contain an ear splitting smile; she had never felt so utterly complete in her entire life, so happy and content._

_"That's my line," She tells him, and means it, letting her eyes slide open as he pulls her atop him, leaving her sprawled out against him. He laughs when she gives him a look from beneath her sweat covered brow, and props himself onto his elbows to really look at her._

_She looked like a bloody angel, basking in all that moonlight, the sheets strewn around her like a cocoon. Her face was aglow and her eyes held a far off look in them, like she thought this was a dream. He smiles at the idea that his face is the same, feeling sated and satisfied beyond belief. Though he supposed he knew, somewhere in the back of his mind that his hunger for Faith could never really be alleviated, only curbed for the time being._

_"Where did you get that bruise?" She asks suddenly, her voice soft. He almost flinches when her fingers trail over the uplifted bump that surrounds his eye, and grins. He leans into her touch, his eyes fluttering closed softly. "Don't worry about it, Faithy."_

_He watches as she frowns, her stunning features tightening, but she lets it go. She leans up, her lips brushing against the swollen eye as softly as she can manage, and then recoils with a smile, now aiming for his lips instead._

Faith could remember a time, years ago now, when her eyes used to be her favourite thing about herself. They were bright, and blue and _loving. _Staring into the mirror now, she couldn't see what she had prided herself on so long ago. She couldn't see why Jack-her beautiful, beautiful _Jack_-had ever complimented them.

They were no longer innocent and wide; she had seen far too much in her life for them to stay that way. No longer did they shine, but were dull instead, faded and sorrowful. Staring at herself in the mirror like this made her angry, frustrated, even; with herself, with everything and everyone. She wanted to crash her fist into it and watch the pieces fall to the ground around her; but then her reflection would be all around her too, taunting her.

_"Faith, my Faith," He breathes between kisses. His lips are everywhere at once; her forehead, her cheeks, the corners of her mouth, her eyes lids, her nose._

The tap makes a sizzling sound as it slides open, and water bursts through the pipe, swirling before her chaotically. She wants to cry. She wants to cry for her, and for him; for what they had lost, for what they were, and most of all, for what they could never again be.

_Hands, large and protective smooth back long, dark curls, before winding it in his hands. He uses the bundle as leverage to get to her lips, and claims them hungrily. He's too much, he's not enough; he's everywhere and yet he's never where she needs him most. "Please, Jack," She groans, arching until he's pushing her hips down and moistening his lips with his tongue. Her eyes, dark with desire, watch as he guides her fingers to his mouth; takes them in one at a time, curling his tongue around them and nibbling on the ends._

_"It's what you get," He says with mirth, "Fucking tease."_

Her vision blurs as something warm pools in her eyes; she squints them closed, feeling a few stray tears trickle down to her chin. She feels weak, _frail_ and so fucking _weak_ that its _pathetic_. Her hands feel like ice beneath the tap, it only gets colder as she splashes it against her face, letting the tears and the water mingle until she cant tell them apart.

Her eyes trail back up to the mirror, locking with a woman she doesn't really know anymore; She glares at the woman, _hates_ her, she wants to make her bleed, make her hurt. And then her eyes soften. Her fingers trail over the scarred tissue beneath her right eye, watching as the stranger before her does the same, staring back sympathetically. "Ugly, _ugly_, _**ugly**_." Faith chants to herself, lips turning into a scowl. Her face was a constant reminder of her failure; the ultimate price for believing and trusting in someone so completely.

_"Say my name." He demands, his voice husky and breath warm next to her ear. She's so close to the end she aches, her fingernails imbedding themselves in his back. His grip is bruising against her leg, which he holds at his hip, the other tossed lazily over his shoulder._

_"Say. My. Name." He grinds out, his hips slowing to show her, her punishment. She tries hard to find her voice, swallowing thickly, "J-__**Jack**__. Oh-oh, God." He chuckles darkly-and she finds that she likes this side of him-as his thumb finds its way between their bodies, honing in expertly on her nub with slow circles. "Again," He commands her, his pace relentless once more, as his hand drops her leg to settle on her hips and drag her closer. She cries out again as he delves deeper than he's ever been, her free leg hooking around his back and her toes curling._

_"Jack!" She cries out to please him, "Oh, Jack!" His teeth find her neck, biting down hard and that's all it takes. She's thrown over the edge hard, sobbing out his name like a mantra, over and over. Her hips spasm wildly against him, desperately trying to get closer-or maybe away, she's not sure-from the pleasure so great its nearly painful. Her walls clamp around him tightly and he groans, his own hips jerking painfully against the cradle of her own._

_And then its over; his hand plants almost violently beside her head, and then he slumps down atop her laughing through gasps of air. She joins him, fingers weaving through his hair as he takes her face in his hands, leaning his forehead against hers. "I love you, Faithy." He tells her slowly, eyes boring into her, "I really, really, love you."_

Anger bubbles inside of her, right from the core. It overwhelms her senses until she cant think anymore, cant stand. She crashes to the ground in a heap, leaning back as she sobs, lets her burning forehead be cooled by the cold tiles.

Was it all just a game to him? Right from the start? She laughs through her tears, laughs so hard she can taste them, warm and salty in her mouth. She laughs because its all she can do, because its all she knows.

Hours later, she lays on the floor of her bedroom, watching the ceiling fan spin 'round and 'round. Her tears had long since dried, but she didn't really want to face anyone yet; after all, it was almost five, and she had to meet what had kept her awake all night soon. Her door creaks open and light spills in to the dim room, making her lift her weary head.

"Faith?" A feminine voice calls, and she sighs, letting her head plop down onto the sheets. "Go away," She says firmly, pulling a pillow over her head childishly.

"My God," The girl says impatiently, waddling over to the bed, "Your worse then Jay."

"No," Faith argues simply from under the pillow, and the girl laughs dryly, plucking the pillow off her head.

"Oh. Hi, Mel. Didn't know you where here." Faith greets in mock cheer. Melanie Fontaine stood above her with a smile etched onto her features. As always, her hair was pulled into a loose ponytail, her blonde hair falling in curls behind her. Her green eyes were as sharp as always, contrasting against the red shirt that left a strip of stomach exposed above her loose-fitting jeans. Her fingers were playing idly with the belt that kept them in place, as though she just wanted to get out of there.

"Yeah, whatever." She says, pulling Faith off her bed, "Jay told me you were finished, and Sal sent me over here to pick it up. He's pretty pissed you know, thinks you had something to do with the heist."

"Doesn't he watch the news?" Faith asks with a scowl, pulling white track pants on over her booty shorts, "That was the Joker."

"Mhm." Mel agrees, leaning against the door as Faith fishes the black bag out of her sock drawer, "At least now Gamble wont be too suspicious of boss. He'll think the clown stole the keys, too."

"Yeah," Faith agrees, letting Mel take the bag, "What did he take, anyways?"

Melanie shoots the dark-haired girl a look as she peaks inside the bag to make sure everything is in order, "How did you know he took something from Gamble?"

Faith scowls and lies easily, "You _just_ said 'stole the key's, _too'; _What else did he take?"

"Just some paperwork," She says a little too quickly, and Faith rolls her eyes. "Whatever, just pay me and get out, I've got shit to do."

Melanie grins at her and tosses her a wad of cash from her back pocket, "Alright, I'll get out of your hair." Faith leads her to the door, fingers trailing through her short hair. "Bye, Jay," Mel calls from the hallway with a grin, "See 'ya, Faith."

* * *

With a blank expression, Faith twirls the playing card nimbly between her fingers, while her other hand taps rhythmically against an end table to her left. She had found it right where she left it last night, and had taken to examining it; she felt like there was something missing. Something that just didn't fit.

"Would you stop that?" Jay asks, pulling on his headphones across the room, "I can barely hear myself think."

Faith frowns, pushing her hair back and squinting down at the plastic calling card between her thumb and forefinger. The Joker was balancing atop a colourful ball with one foot, a large grin on his face. She turns it, staring at the blue-patterned back, before turning it again; that's when she notices that the left corner of the card is pulled up at the edge. With a satisfied grin, she peels it away carefully, fumbling to catch a tab that falls from between what she realizes are two glued-together cards.

"In a city like Gotham, everything's _backwards_. Nothings black or white, its _blue_." She mumbles each word out slowly, and then folds it into her pocket. _Blue could just mean the cops_, she thinks, knowing that in the Narrows, cops were known as the blues, _but what does he mean by backwards?_

What could Ethel have to do with backwards and the cops? Suddenly it hits her like a ton of bricks and she turns to Jay with a grin, "Jay, can you look up a street called Lethe for me?"

"Here?" He asks, a frown playing at his lips. "No," she says with a roll of her eyes, "In South Africa! Yes, _here_, you dumbass!"

"Fine, no need to get snippy," He curses and then he's typing away at his keyboard with a sour expression. The light that had been seeping into the apartment had faded long ago, leaving only darkness in its wake. _Just how long have I been sitting here? _Faith thinks, pushing off the couch. She glances down at the now, two cards she holds-a joker and a queen of hearts-and cant help but think to herself, _how fitting_.

She rounds the corner and turns into the kitchen, where 7:51 stares up at her in bold, red font. _Time to go; hurry the fuck up, Jay_. Anxiety spills into her gut, and she lets her mind scold her for it. _Why are you so anxious to see him, Faith?_ "Sorry, no streets; _But_ there's a bowling alley named 'Lethe' down on Main Street." Jay tells her, sounding pleased. Silence is the only thing that greets him.

"Faith?" He says slowly, turning around to survey the room, but he's alone. His watch confirms the time, 7:52, and he bangs his fist against his desk, "Shit."

* * *

_Why that sneaky little asshole_, she thinks, as she rounds the corner a block away from her apartment, _the cops have the bank tapes, they would have heard him say Ethel street; how could I have been so stupid? He wants me to meet him at that damned bowling alley they're wreck-balling on Friday._

Once again upset with herself, she treks through the Narrows, pistol in her pocket. She stops in front of the ominous looking alley, and curses lowly, feeling her heart begin to race. "He doesn't expect me to go in there, does he?" She asks the darkness, feeling uneasy and not expecting an answer.

A hand winds firmly around her waist, the other successfully blocking her mouth which had opened to scream. She goes to retaliate, but stops abruptly when she notices the purple glove encasing her 'attackers' fingers. "Ye_s,_" Someone purrs beside her ear, his breath chilling her down to the bone, "_Yes_, he does."

His body presses tightly against her from behind, laughing as she stiffens. "What's the matter, Faithy?" He taunts, his chin resting between her neck and shoulder, "Did you miss me?"

He laughs giddily when he gets no response, pushing his hips against her lower back to get her to move. She gapes at the bold move, as his own legs guide her into the darkness of the bowling alley, whose doors were already wide open, welcoming them. It swallows them whole as they move forward, wrapping them in pitch black. Faith plants her feet firmly to stop them from advancing any further, fear finally gripping her tightly, but the Joker merely keeps pushing wordlessly, until she's forced to move or fall face-first into the floor. _He's in a good mood_, she realizes when he muffles a ticklish giggle against her neck and she squirms; it only makes him laugh harder.

Finally, he stops. His teeth dig into the tender flesh of her neck, causing blood to swell to the wound. He licks at it greedily, rubbing his face against her neck as he does so, making her feel his scars.

She gasps, feeling a stray tear trickle from the corner of her eye as he latches onto her, sucking harshly to draw more blood to his mouth. Her eyes struggle to adjust to the darkness as she stomps down hard on his foot, and he groans, rubbing his arousal against her inner thigh, "You still know what I like, Faithy." She whimpers quietly as he mocks her, laughing at her feeble attempts to pull away, "S-Stop!"

"Stop?" He asks, tasting the words as if trying it against his tongue, "Hm."

He pushes her away from his body, watching as she stumbles and catches herself before she can make contact with the unforgiving floor. He tilts his head to the side as he watches her, pulling off his gloves and coat slowly and tossing them over a chair in one of the lanes.

She cant tell exactly where he is in the darkness, but she can _hear_ him as his feet slide heavily against the floor. She follows his footsteps with her head as he circles her, like a predator stalking his prey, and then she is nothing but a mess on the floor. His body is heavy atop her, suffocating even as he straddles her face coming closer in the pitch black.

Above them, the lights flicker and then steady, allowing Faith to see his face hovering above her. She takes in his face paint, smudged through until she can see ivory skin peering out at her and grimaces as she realizes the rest must be all over her. His brown eyes read her like an open book; his stare is heavy and unforgiving.

"Don't be ah, afraid of me," He tells her, tilting his head down toward her as his tongue prods at the corner of his scarred mouth, "It's not a look that suits you."

"I'm not afraid of _you_!" She seethes, blinking back tears as she tries her hardest to look fierce and angry. His expression doesn't change, his brown eyes searching hers, boring into her. She looks away, uncomfortable as his gaze lingers on the scars below her eye. She bites her lip as his fingers smooth over them, unable to imagine what he thought of the ugly tares that hung above her cheek. A tear slides down the opposite side of her face and she closes her eyes as tightly as she can manage, trying to will him away. Hands are on either side of her face before she can do anything about it, and something warm and moist connects with the tender patch of skin under her eye. Faith's eyes flutter open, watching him with interest.

He holds her gaze, lowering his lips to the scarred flesh again, so softly she almost doesn't feel it. _"Where did you get that bruise?" _Faith's innocent voice echo's in her mind, and she responds to his unvoiced question before she can really think about it. "Don't worry about it."

His tongue traces the triangles agonizingly slowly, as she hums in response, shivering pleasantly. Relief swells inside of her; he didn't find her repulsive, he was fucking licking and biting at her scars like he did so everyday. He didn't _care_.

"Don't look away, Faithy," He says carefully, fingers sliding up her chin to pull her face back towards him, "What are you afraid of? Hm?"

She swallows thickly, staring up at him. _That. Stop touching me. Stop. I cant take it, stop. _She wants to scream, wants to kick at him; at the same time she wants to moan, to touch him. The conflicting emotions battle inside her; they're too much.

"This..?" he teases slowly, and a kiss is placed dangerously close to her mouth. She whimpers again as his fingers drag lower, teasing the skin just above her slacks and then brushing across her hips bone, "Or that?"

"I-I..-" She pauses suddenly, "I don't know."

"..What was that?" He asks, a lopsided grin taking over his face. "Maybe I should-uh, refresh your memory." He dips low again, his forehead touching hers. His warm breath puffs over her lips as he moves lower, his body fidgeting atop hers. "Now," He says, so close to her that his lips brush against hers as he talks, "Ah, this?"

"_Please_." She says, and finds that she doesn't know why. It felt relieving to push that one word out, like she had been holding it in over the years.

"_Please_?" He mocks her in a high pitched voice, recoiling and clapping his hands excitedly. Then he leans back, settling himself atop her, with his legs on either side of her stomach, "Puh-_lease_, what, Faithy?"

He stares down at her as she blushes, shifting uncomfortably. He raises an eyebrow at her, and tilts his head to the side as he taps his finger to his chin.

"You know, I cant, uh," He stops to chuckle darkly, glancing down at her with a twinkle in his eyes, "_please, _you, if you, ah, don't tell me what it is you want, Faithy."

She finds herself staring at the scars that stretch across his face, red paint smudged along the lines and faded pink where his lips had touched her. She wanted so badly to give him that same acceptance he had given her; just one touch could do that, one measly touch.

"Let me touch you." She says, and then slaps her hands over her mouth as her blush darkens considerably. _Traitor_, she thinks of her mouth, _moving without my permission_.

He smiles wryly-though it was more like a grin, to her-and then tilts his cheeks towards her, as though he knows what she's getting at. "You wont be angry?" She wonders aloud, her eyes growing soft as her fingers reach up towards his face.

He shrugs slightly and stares at her as she takes his face between her hands, her eyes moving between his own for a moment and then dipping lower, taking in the gagged grin running up his mouth.

Her thumbs trace the slightly raised skin right down to his lips and back up, and then her mouth curls into a slow smile.

She pulls herself up, kissing the end of one of the jagged scars and moving down to kiss the corner of his mouth where it ended. She lets her lips skim across his briefly, pressing down at the opposite corner of his mouth to take some of the flesh their into her mouth.

She sucks on it softly, rolling it between her teeth, and listening to him groan in approval. "Ah, maybe not so afraid of _this_, hm?" He teases when she finally recoils, "Or maybe just getting a little, _bolder_?"

He clicks his teeth together with a _clink, _and pulls himself off of her lazily, motioning for her to do the same. She stands shakily, wondering what in the world had come over her. There were so many questions to ask him; so much left unanswered.

With a far off look in his eyes, he trails a finger up her spine and over her collarbone. "There's a University across the street from here," He says, not looking at her, "Do you know what Nitromethane is?"

"Are you _crazy_?" She exclaims, her voice hushed, "You want _me _to get you _Nitromethane_? Do you have any idea what that shit _does_?"

"Don't get your knickers all in a bunch," He says with a laugh, twirling something in his grasp. It catches the light, and Faith automatically recognizes it as her pistol. She stares at him accusingly, and he grins back, holding her eyes with his own. Was all that to get her fucking gun away from her? "They've got a shit load of it in the Chemistry labs there."

"Why the _fuck_ would they have-" With a roar, he grabs her hair in his hands and pulls her to him, his lips crushing against her so hard she thinks she'll bruise. A sob climbs in the back of her throat as he pulls back; she still doesn't know why, maybe she just feels used.

"At ta ta ta," He scolds, waving he gun at her, "Hush."

"Now, its mixed in with methanol, _sweet-pea_. Not, ah, explosive, _yet_, if you catch my drift." He grins, pleased with himself, "How much do you know about bombs, _sweetheart_?"

She grimaces at the 101 nicknames game they seem to be playing, "Enough to know that your going to boil it; that'll get rid of the methanol and make it explosive. Then your probably going to add ammonia to it, and confine it, so you can detonate it whenever you want to."

"Oh," He presses out, grinning at her as he folds her favourite weapon away safely into his pocket, "I love it when you talk dirty to me."

* * *

**A/U:** I don't really like this chapter. I've read stories where the Joker was sweet, and some where he was abusive; I wanted to combine the two, because personally, I feel what makes someone human is that they have many sides to them. Anyways, I would really appreciate some feedback, because I feel like I massacred his character in this chapter. I just really want some kind of assurance, ha. Is it going okay so far; do you like it, hate it? Is Faith a Mary-sue, not realistic..? Ect.. Any feedback at all is greatly appreciated!


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